


before I went under

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Dark Character, Dark Wendy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:43:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She cradles the heart to her chest. “Oh,” she whispers. “I was meant to keep you safe, wasn’t I?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	before I went under

Wendy feels them the moment they step onto the beach, and she sighs and sits next to the pixie dust sapling. Like the other trees she’s tried and failed to revive, this one is in a fragile state, and half of its half-formed leaves litter the floor.  _I’m sorry, little one_ , she thinks to the tree, pressing more dirt around its base.  _I would give you sunlight if I could._

She scoots away from the sapling, the only hope of restoring Neverland’s light, and she looks to the side where dreamshade vines have overtaken yet another tree. “You told me your gift was a bag of useless beans.”

The shadow hears her silent beckoning and melts out of a dreamshade vine, his eyes glowing a malicious white. “They  _are_  useless—to us.”

Wendy closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head, getting to her feet. “Why would you steal them? Neverland doesn’t need any more distractions.”

“I thought they would please you. They are a valuable source of magic. You’ve been collecting magic for years.”

“Yes, the type of magic Neverland  _needs_. It seems those beans have no purpose on this island.” Wendy brushes off Nibs’ pants and turns to the dying sapling, chewing on her lower lip. “I’ll go talk to them.”

 _Be strong_ , she thinks to the pixie dust tree, and Neverland gives a little sigh in response. Wendy looks down and shuts her eyes, imagining the place where the new arrivals are—and when she steps forward and opens her eyes, she is on the line that borders the forest and the beach.

Two shapes, older and younger than her sixteen years, are stumbling to the forest hundreds of feet away from her. Neverland can smell their fear and thrives on it—somewhere, another stalk of dreamshade springs up. Another fairy’s eyes turn white and teeth become pointed. Another month of tending before the pixie dust tree can start growing again.

“Henry, I can’t see a thing,” one shape—a teenager, about eighteen or so—complains, and her silhouette gives a violent shudder. “It’s  _freezing_ , too. I can’t believe I insisted on coming with you. I’m no good at adventure.”

Wendy ignores the rest of her words, because she’s crept closer to the couple, and her heart jolts when she sees the young man who towers over her. Even in the darkness, the eyes that look just like Bae’s reflect the water, and Wendy’s heart aches for the charming little boy who vowed to save her from Pet— _Pan_.

Neverland howls in her ear for his heart, and Wendy frowns without meaning to. Despite the years, Henry’s heart is still pure and gullible—still has the power to fix Neverland. A part of her, the part that’s been twisted by Neverland’s darkness and turned into a lean, hungry animal, thirsts for his heart to replace hers and for the girl’s blood to water Neverland’s soil.

 _I had a heart like yours, once_ , she thinks to Henry, starting to follow the couple into the jungle.  _Maybe I can save yours._

Henry and the girl—a young woman, really, but Wendy has trouble thinking of others as anything other than _boy_  or  _girl_ anymore—stop, and Henry fumbles for something at his side. A moment later, a flame flickers to life from a silver lighter, revealing the wall of dreamshade mere inches away from them. It also reveals the sword hanging at Henry’s waist and the bow slung across the girl’s back.

“What’s happened to Neverland?” Henry breathes, and Wendy has to laugh at that. Both Henry and the girl whirl around, reducing the distance between them and the dreamshade even more. At first, Wendy thinks a thorn is going to prick one of them, but then Henry pulls the girl forward and wraps an arm around her waist. A protective gesture, but who is he protecting her from?  _Her?_

“Wendy?” Henry asks, furrowing his brow. “You—you look different.”

“Neverland’s magic has almost vanished,” Wendy says, and her smile is grim. “I’ve started aging again.” She turns to the girl and forces herself to smile wider. “How do you do? I am Wendy Darling.”

The girl’s eyes are wide and vividly blue, and her hair is the color of mud bundled up in a thick braid. “I’m Janessa,” she says. “Nice to meet you. I was expecting you to be more… evil, from Rumple’s stories.”

Wendy’s smile slips away and she focuses again on Henry.  _Evil. That word used to mean something_. “What are you here for?”

“Your shadow—”

“ _My_  shadow is a naive young girl humming away in Dark Hollow, Henry,” says Wendy. “I have no desire to see her ever again. Any shadow you saw in Storybrooke would be Neverland’s shadow, Caelan. I call him Cael.”

“Neverland’s shadow,” Henry corrects, and then the flame sputters out. Janessa’s fear flares up again, and Wendy can feel a vine caress her foot. No thorns on this one, though—Neverland would never risk its darling, not when she’s its only company.

“Would you like a torch?” Wendy asks the darkness, and imagines a lit torch in her hand before either can reply. She hands it to Henry, who tucks his silver lighter in his pocket and takes it from her with nervous eyes.

“Thank you. Anyway—and I highly doubt you don’t already know this—Neverland’s shadow came to Storybrooke and stole our magic beans. We’ve been growing those beans for eight years, Wendy—and only  _five_ of them go to where we’re from! We need those beans to return home. And—” he stops, swallows, looks away. The firelight shows the glaze in his eyes, and Wendy can’t help but wonder if he’s going to cry.

Janessa squeezes his shoulder and turns to Wendy, face twisted in accusation. “The shadow killed his mom, too,” she tells her. “Emma Swan, the Savior.”

“What?” Wendy blinks, almost unable to believe her ears. Cael hasn’t killed in such a long time, it’s almost unlike him. Why would he do this? When she was  _so close_  to getting a pixie dust tree to live? Why would he ruin  _years_ of her work?

“My mom’s dead,” Henry says, and his tears are gone when he looks back. “My other one’s on Hook’s ship, with Rumplestiltskin and the Blue Fairy. Everyone in Storybrooke is determined to destroy Neverland once and for all.”

Wendy swallows and looks down at the damp earth, black as the sky surrounding it. “Destroy Neverland? That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible for us,” Henry declares, his hope and  _belief_  shining through on his face, and Wendy would pity him if she could. He tightens his grip on Janessa at the same time his expression softens. “Wendy, we might spare you if you bring the beans back. You can come to Storybrooke with us, free from this place once and for all.”

Wendy stares at him and half-heartedly shrugs.  _They’ve never known, have they? After all this time…_  “I’ll give you the beans,” she tells him, walking past him and waving her hand. Neverland obeys her with a purr, and the dreamshade vines wither away, curling into themselves and forming balls of dripping black-purple poison. She walks through the gap and turns around as the vines begin to knit themselves back together. “But if you try to do anything to my island, you’ll wish you never came.”

Henry’s expression—shocked, hurt, betrayed—is hidden by the vines, and Wendy turns away and steps into the air without a second look.

From above, Neverland is a sprawling mass of indistinguishable treetops, but past Dead Man’s Peak is a ring of grass, with one tree in its center. It is there she lowers to the ground  and climbs into the lone tree’s branches, resting her back against the strong wood behind her. If she closes her eyes, she can still smell faint pine and rain, and her fingers curl into the wood on their own accord.

“Peter,” she whispers, and the wind caresses through her hair in response. Wendy sits in the Thinking Tree for a long time, Neverland trembling under her touch all the while. When she  _feels_  rather than  _sees_  the fireball shot into the air to burn away dreamshade vines, she narrows her eyes and drops to the ground, kneeling at the base of the tree and digging up clumps of dirt until the dirt gives way to reveal a metal box that Cael had fetched for her, long ago.

Wendy pushes away more dirt until she can pick the metal box up fully and cradle it to her chest, prying the roof open as gently as she can.

Beneath the rusting roof is a damaged heart. Its edges are pink and shadows swirl inside, but it still glows with the golden aura of a Believer. Wendy can feel its warmth driving away Neverland’s cold, but then she turns it over in her hand and sees the near-invisible crack down its side. When she holds it closer, she can see hundreds of smaller, finer fissures, all breaking off from the original cleft.

“Oh,” she whispers, and tears prick her eyes for the first time in twenty years. “I was meant to keep you safe, wasn’t I?”

Her heart pulses in response, and Wendy presses a kiss to its surface—it burns her lips, but she doesn’t mind. Pulling away, she tucks the heart back in its dingy home and makes the hole it occupied even deeper, burying it at the base of Peter’s Thinking Tree.

Her hands are dirt-caked and her nails broken when she finally stands up and enters the main forest. Another dreamshade vine is set ablaze by Regina, somewhere far off in the opposite side of the island, and Cael joins her side the moment she’s done shaping her first jungle cat. “The fairies are fighting them,” he informs her. “What are you doing?”

“Making an army.” Wendy looks at the earthen figure and closes her eyes, imagining rippling muscle and dreamshade-tipped teeth and claws sharp as the Boys’ arrows, with a roar that could inspire fear in the most ferocious fairy. When she opens her eyes, a black jungle cat with slanted red eyes stares back at her, its mouth pulled back in a snarl and its barbed tail flicking in the air.

“Aid the fairies,” she commands it, and the jungle cat’s claws glow silver as it bounds off into the night. Wendy shapes and imagines and lets the animal part of her take over. All of her creations are twisted to match the nightmare Neverland has become, but Wendy cannot bring herself to care about the horrors the Storybrooke residents are about to face.  _They threatened Neverland_ , she tells herself as she shapes another monster.  _They deserve this._

But the part of her that makes up her shadow, the sweet  _Wendy Moira Angela Darling_ and not the snarling  _Wendy_ , brings up images of Henry. Henry, eight years prior when he still had eyes that reminded her of  _Bae_  and not of a _traitor_ —when he told her stories of Storybrooke because he thought it made her feel better—when he still clung to her hand as he  _promised_ her he’d save her.

The jungle cat she makes after that memory is the last, and she stands up after it stalks after its prey. Cael hovers in front of her, his eyes glowing almost harshly and spilling one of the only light sources on the island. “Where are you going?” he demands. His cold seeps into her skin, but Wendy refuses to show her fear. If Neverland senses it, it spares her the feel of another dreamshade vine wrapping around a tree somewhere on the island.

Wendy smiles and holds a hand up to where his chest would be, and Cael’s essence wraps around her fingers, weaving between the spaces and dancing over her skin. It’s as close to a caress as he can get, and Wendy ignores the shudder that wants to claw free. “I’m going to go protect the pixie dust tree,” she tells him, smiling. Cael slowly lowers until his feet brush the ground. “Cael, I’m not powerful enough to fight them on my own. I have to protect the tree.”

“I’ll fight them for you,” he promises, and steps away from her. Wendy lets her hand linger for a moment, then fall to her side as Cael floats higher and higher in the air. “When I’m done with them, they’ll wish they never stepped foot on this island.”

When he is gone, Wendy whirls around and runs. Dreamshade vines curl away to let her pass, and the island sings  _Wendy-bird_  as her heels brush past its leaves, running on the path it sets for her. She reaches the tree in a few minutes, and drops to her knees, digging her fingers underneath the dirt mound holding the tree in place.

Another leaf flutters to the ground as she uproots the tree—it’s so small she can cup it in both hands—and steps into the air. The pixie dust hanging around her neck coats her legs in green as she soars over the treetops. She flies in the opposite direction of Storybrooke’s residents and ends up on a cliffside overhanging the ocean. Skull Rock glows orange in the distance as Wendy’s feet touch the ground.

Wendy sets the tree down and starts digging a new hole for it. The moment after she plants the fragile sapling, Neverland screams in her ears. It's so loud Wendy doubles over, clutching her head. All at once, she feels dark shapes whoosh past her, and when the screaming dies down and she pries open her eyes her shadow is sitting on a rock across from her.

“Hello,” she says, smiling. Wendy’s head pounds in time with her heart and she pushes herself up, squinting at the twelve-year-old girl she used to be. Her shadow wears a nightgown, almost identical to the one she wore when she had arrived at Neverland, and her hair is neat and held back by a clip. “I daresay I haven’t seen you in quite a while. I thought you might like a friend to keep you company.”

“Why aren’t you in Dark Hollow?” Wendy asks, and footfalls echo in her ears.  _They’re coming, Wendy_ , the island tells her, and Wendy presses a hand to her temple again.  _Make it stop. Make it stop._

“Oh, well, all the shadows were set free when Caelan died,” her shadow self informs her, as cheerfully as if discussing the weather, and Wendy gapes at the hard dirt underneath her.  _Cael’s gone? They killed him?_

 _Just like they Peter,_  a cruel voice whispers inside, and the children’s piercing cries echo from the forest.  _Just like they killed Felix and your brothers. You really are all alone, Wendy-bird._

Her shadow continues, oblivious to Wendy's grimaces. “I thought you would like a friend, and who better than me to keep you company? Wendy? Are you all right? You look ill. What’s wrong?”

Wendy gets to her feet, clutching at the spot over the empty cavern in her chest and staring out over the ocean.  _They’re all gone. They’re all gone. I’m all that’s left of Neverland_

“Wendy?”

This time, it is not her shadow who says her name, but Henry. Without glancing to see, Wendy feels the shadow sprint away, terrified of a boy she doesn’t remember meeting. Wendy looks over her shoulder, and the edges of her toes dip over the cliff. She shuffles backward a few steps and half-turns, eying the tree that’s between her and the two armed teenagers.

Janessa has three claw marks slashed across her cheek, her hair is out of her braid, and her bow is out and trained on Wendy. Henry’s clothes are torn and blood stains a part of his pants, but his sword is far bloodier. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” Henry tells her with a placating smile. “We were just roaming the island and we heard you talking.”

Wendy closes her eyes and imagines the beans in her treehouse materializing in her hand. She waits until her hand grows heavy and then she opens her eyes and tosses the beans at Henry. They land at his feet, but he doesn’t bend to pick them up. Wendy turns back to the ocean and gazes up at the sky, the cries of Neverland’s children echoing in her ears.  _Make it stop_. “There are your precious beans. Take them and go, and don't come back to Neverland.”

“Neverland’s already gone,” Henry says, sheathing his sword. His eyes are soft and pleading as he steps forward, stretching out his hand. “I only broke one promise, Wendy, and that was when I promised to save you. I can still keep that promise. I can _still_ save you. All you have to do is leave Neverland behind. Come with us, Wendy. Come to Storybrooke. You’ll be happy there, I swear.”

Wendy takes a moment to look at the two through the island’s eyes. Neverland shows her how Janessa’s arm quivers with the effort to not release the arrow, and how Wendy is in the arrow’s direct path. Red-tinged seawater crashes against the cliff, thirsting for more blood to dye its waters, and Wendy is only a few steps away from giving the ocean the life it desires. Henry still stands behind her, eighteen and starry-eyed, his eyes wide with the conviction that she  _will_ choose Storybrooke over Neverland.

A child of the forest lets out a wail, his cry pounding through Wendy’s head. The cries are soft as thunder, now, and Neverland’s nervousness permeates the air.  _Wendy-bird?_  it whispers, wind brushing against her earlobe, insistent.  _Wendy-bird, you can’t_ leave  _us…_

“You don’t understand,” she says, but it comes out more hiss than whisper, and she spins on her heel. “Have you forgotten what happened last time you tried to take me from the island?”

She sees Janessa release the arrow before she actually feels it embed itself in her shoulder. The force of impact sends her back a few steps, and a heel slips off the edge of the cliff. Wendy buckles and loses her balance, twisting around and sliding forward. The sea seems to explode at her closeness, and she can see pink foam topping the waves as it froths and writhes beneath her.

Someone grabs her hand at the last second, and Wendy glances up to see Henry. Sweet little Henry, with Bae’s eyes and John’s solemnity and Michael's concern, has given up his sword to hold her wrist with sweaty palms. “Don’t give up, Wendy,” he begs. Janessa’s face appears next to his, and her hands are free as well.

“I didn’t mean to,” the girl cries, her eyes red-tinged and cheeks shining in the darkness as she reaches for her. “I swear, Wendy, you scared me and—it wasn’t my fault!”

 _Liar_ , Neverland roars.  _We’ll destroy you all for this. Wendy-bird…_

“Wendy,” Henry says, and Wendy feels another part of her wrist slip through his hands. Janessa lunges forward to grab her hand, but too much of her body goes over the cliffside and she leans too far. Henry tightens his grip on Wendy’s wrist with one hand and tries to steady Janessa with the other. “Be _careful!_ ”

“I need to help,” the girl replies, a sob hidden in her voice as she scrambles backward, and Wendy wants to pity her so badly, but no heart beats in her chest and she can only stare. Henry shoots Janessa another worried look and reaches for Wendy’s other hand.

“Come on, Wendy, grab my hand. You can do it, I know you can—I  _believe in you_ , Wendy Darling!”

His fingers are damp and sweaty and warm, and Wendy feels herself lower another inch. She swings her arm up and misses his hand, and pain blossoms in her shoulder again. Blood trickles down her side and sticks to her shirt in wet, hot bursts, and Wendy can only smile at him.  _Never change, Henry. For me._

Her hand slips further, and soon Henry is only holding on to her by her knuckles. Wendy fixes her gaze on the sobbing Janessa and smiles slightly. “Thank you.”

Henry’s grip on her slides away, and the waves reach up to welcome her home.


End file.
